THE AROMA OF FRESH MILK …… (A POEM)
The aroma of fresh milk as cows are milked,
The woman graveolent of cow shed and hay,
Wood smoke rising from homes curling,
Swirling with the growing morning mist
Ere burgeoning to fog to shroud the earth;
Jasmine and Champak contending futilely
With stink of garbage uncleared for days!
All early morning smells at 5.30 A.M
As I step out to walk to the park
In half darkness, sidestepping dogs and dung,
Peering to make out outlines of obstructions,
Wondering when this beautiful garden city
Has turned into nothing better than a village
With all its attendant suburban features!
